


Support

by NobleSteed



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24075037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobleSteed/pseuds/NobleSteed
Summary: Takes place a few hours after the final scene of Guardians of the Galaxy Volume Two. The Guardians have dispersed to their private rooms to process the day's events individually and Gamora decides to check on Peter Quill. Gamora/Peter angsty one-shot with a pinch of fluff on the side.
Relationships: Gamora & Peter Quill, Gamora/Peter Quill, Starmora - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Support

He sat on the bench in front of his window, staring off into the bleak void of space and clenching the fabric in his hands. His room was dark, and he was shirtless--it was made clear by the overturned sheets that he had gotten out of bed to think. He twitched as he heard her enter, but otherwise, he did not acknowledge her presence.

The door slid shut behind her, but there was no other noise in the room. Her soundless footfalls took her to his side, where she sat down. He still stared out at space.

There was some silence, and then she spoke. “Will you be able to rest tonight?” The question was soft and gentle--a tone she rarely used. His gaze moved from the window to the floor. He breathed deeply, sighed, and closed his mouth again, as though the yes/no question was brutally hard to answer. “I...don’t know,” he muttered finally, head slumping a bit. As she sat there and looked at him, a wave of sorrow washed over her: he was usually so vibrant and strong, full of that big, stupid personality, but now he sat here, in the dark, half-naked, shoulders hunched and head hung low, looking like the very personification of defeat. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been through more than one man should ever have to go through in a day,” she said. He didn’t respond. She continued, “I think he would be proud that his son took it so well. I know...I know he would, because I am.” He turned his head away from her. She couldn’t see, but his lip trembled. He shut his eyes to quell their burning.

She said, “Please don’t lock yourself away from us because of this. We all came to respect him. We mourn for Yondu, too.” She was surprised to hear him gasp a little--his shoulder shook beneath her hand, and she realized he was crying. “Peter?”

The man looked down at his hands. In the dim light, Gamora saw that his lip was curled in a bitter snarl, and a teardrop fell down his cheek. He clenched the shirt in his hands. “Last thing he ever gave me as a birthday present,” he said. “I never--never got to wear it before--” He couldn’t finish. The sentence was interrupted by an involuntary sob, and he stood up, walking away from Gamora.

“Drax says that tears make a person weak,” he said. Gamora stood and came beside him. “Drax says a lot of things that are based on perception instead of fact. Anyway, he says that because his own sorrows frighten him,” she said, still gentle. “You know that.” She placed an arm on his back. “Grief is powerful because it shows us who we are, Peter. Right now, it seems that you are a man who loved his father very much. That is honorable--a blessing.” One that many of us never get to experience, she thought to herself, but the time wasn’t right for speaking that comment aloud. Peter caught his breath for a moment, considering, then he buried his face in the shirt and sobbed. 

It went on for a while. She stood by him, holding him in an awkward side-hug, grateful that his face was hidden so he couldn’t see her blinking against her own tears. When he finally calmed down, he took the shirt away from his face, and Gamora thought she’d never seen a man look so tired in all her life. She reached up and wiped away some of the wet from his eyes, and he embraced her, holding her tightly. Though uncomfortable around his intense expressions of affection, she did her best to reciprocate, returning the embrace and allowing her head to rest on his chest. The moment lasted for a while, then he gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you,” his lips against her ear. She broke the embrace and gave him a close-lipped smile. “You are welcome.” He stared at her for a moment, eyelids half-shut with fatigue, and then he said, “Think I can rest now.” A faint smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. 

“Good,” she said. “Don’t let me stop you.” She turned to go, satisfied that he seemed slightly more at peace, and paused when he reached out and held her hand. Before she could even finish looking back at him, he kissed her, half on the mouth and half not, his aim made less accurate by weariness and the dark. She kissed back, amused that he’d missed, then left the room, waiting outside his closed door until she heard him get back in the bed. She walked to her room and got ready for bed herself, feeling like her own grief was easier to bear because now it was shared.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my fic! Constructive criticism is welcome.


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